


There is a time for everything, but you gotta know how to seize it with class

by ginkata



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A Bit of Fluff, Alternate Universe - Future, Attempt at Humor, Established Relationship, M/M, also briefly Tsukishima Akiteru, violinist akaashi and pianist tsukishima
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-18 02:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3552062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginkata/pseuds/ginkata
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay but hear me out, he’s good.”</p><p>"What, you mean your friend who punched Akaashi-san’s flower pot to pieces and also said ‘I’m so gay’ while making strong eye contact with me?"</p><p>"Yah. I mean— I break flower pots too. A lot. So it’s all good."</p><p>"Leave me the fuck alone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	There is a time for everything, but you gotta know how to seize it with class

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing both KuroTsuki and BokuAka (not really but I never posted that fic), and also first time handling more than one main character so the points of view are a little mixed.

Bokuto barrelled through the front door looking absolutely exhausted and indifferent to the two flower pots he just destroyed, and Kuroo made a mental note that he needed to stop buying ceramic pots and find a store where they can give special child-proof flower pots next time he bought those expensive roses.

"Sorry," he breathed, to which Kuroo simply raised an eyebrow and shrugged it off from the couch he was sitting at, remote control in hand and TV set on the sports channel.

"That’s fine. You just raised your flower pot debt to fifty-two thousand yens. Who am I to complain."

"Please! Forgive this one! I had to be in time for the match!" And he discarded his layers of thick winter clothes until he’s only wearing a sweater (thank god it’s too cold, or he would have stripped off his pants too). He plopped down next to Kuroo and took one of the beers on the table— that were prepared beforehand for the night since they always had those kind of pizza-beer-french fries nights whenever there was a volleyball match on TV.

"Well, the scores didn’t even open yet, Japan’s got strong receives and Brazil is going strong. Oh— nevermind, Brazil is still a bunch of losers in tight fitting clothes."

"You bet. I hate sayin’ this but they couldn’t possibly beat Japan’s Ushiwaka."

Three beers, two and a half pizzas and a rack of greasy fries later, Bokuto leaned his head back on the couch’s backrest and let out what could possibly be the most conflicted sigh since his last dejected mode. And he wasn’t even dejecting, Japan was one set leading the match and the food tasted great.

"I’m moving in with Keiji."

It almost ruined the last pizza with how Kuroo spat out his beer in the general direction of the food, but he didn’t have that much in his mouth to begin with.

"Sorry— I’m so sorry! I love Keiji so much, and I think I want to get married, and have like, a dog. A golden retriever. But like, the first step’s there, y’know? I want to live with him."

"Ah, I mean, totally." Kuroo half-heartedly shrugged and took another swig of his bottle, "I’m… I’m really happy. For you guys. Truly."

"I feel like it was a bad time to tell you this."

"Whether you told me a second ago or in the next few years, I’d react the same. But no, really, I _am_ happy." He turned his look to Bokuto who was giving him a no-bullshit look back, which as a matter of fact gave him an unsettling aura. Not the kinda aura you know he has when he’s about to knock down the hundred-year-old glass flower pot that was passed down three generations, but that one kinda aura that meant he knew you were lying through your teeth— or at least hiding something in plain sight. Kuroo gave in to an eyeroll and pulled his tongue out, before standing to go get the tissues and clean the spit-beer mess.

"Is it ‘cause you’re still single?"

"Nah."

"It is, then."

"I said nah."

"No means no, and nah means maybe, sometimes it means yes. You didn’t say no, you said nah, so you meant yes. Or maybe."

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up."

Japan settled the score, twenty-one to twenty-five on the first set, nineteen to twenty-five on the second. Bokuto allowed himself a streak of insults directed to the Brazilian team about how bad quality they were, Kuroo yelled at him to shut the fuck up again if he didn’t want to pay sixty percent of the rent instead of fifty.

The subject of moving was completely avoided like Kenma when he avoided Bokuto’s spikes in high school or just human contact in general, Bokuto thought he might just have to bring it up once he found a way to pull his bro out of this state of ‘tfw no bf’.

 

 

 

In the week that followed, Akaashi invited over Bokuto for a dinner party with about fifty classical music connoisseurs— and himself, who guests spotted immediately by the outrageous hairstyle and no-sense-of-discretion voice. Some commented that it had a charming ring to it, despite it all, and they still let him in because they adored Akaashi’s violin solos. In spite of being ignorant to the core about classical music, only every once in a while slipping in conversations the words Mozzarella (Mozart) and Bee-tooth-vent (Beethoven) to sound as close as possible to basic—regardless of the fact that each time he mentioned them he raised his palm to his face to read his smudged writing— the guests appreciated his attempts at integrating and even made it with his childlike humor.

However at the very end of the room were two or three who didn’t blend in with the likes of Bokuto, and Akaashi walked over that side to breathe a bit from having to hear his boyfriend inflate his ego and chatter about Akaashi’s long defined eyelashes (how embarrassing). He took a chair next to the marbled white handcrafted piano, and observed as a rather quiet guest fingered the keys rather skillfully. The lid of the piano was closed and the faint notes were muffled by the sounds of the bantering crowd, but Akaashi recognized each of the notes he pressed on.

"Spiegel im Spiegel," the one guest that seemed so quiet suddenly spoke up, but not detaching his eyes from the keys, "I listened to your solo last Friday. Congratulations."

Akaashi tried to make eye contact with the man, he saw him adjust his thick black framed glasses with two fingers then continue with his streak of notes. Akaashi nodded along the muffled melody of his favorite piece roll into his ears and resurface old memories.

"Thank you," Akaashi murmured, once the blond man finished with his piece and raised his eyes to meet with his own. "I do not need to introduce myself then, who might you be?"

"Kei. Tsukishima. I am Tsukishima Akiteru’s younger brother."

"Tsukishima… it sounds like you both have it in your blood."

The two of them simultaneously cast a glance to Akiteru, who was within the crowd around Bokuto. Akaashi noticed him drumming his fingers on his thigh along a new melody the younger Tsukishima had started, and his eyes were briefly on him before turning back to the crowd.

"I don’t like the piano, yet it’s the only instrument I can play."

Akaashi had his eyes back on Tsukishima for a moment, then he glanced at the keyboard.

It was hard not to notice, Tsukishima was uneasy with how he played, despite playing fairly well to a level it could be appreciated by fine musicians like the ones in the room, yet there was a sense of weakness and retreat.

The violinist stood and extended his arm to Tsukishima, who took it in his hand after giving him a slightly puzzled look. Akaashi shook it gently while making strong eye contact, and added “I understand, I hated the violin too. But my partner made me understand there is a time for everything.”

 

 

 

“Keiji… who was that kid you were talking to at the party…?”

"Tsukishima Kei. Tsukishima Akiteru’s younger brother." and he added after hearing a strangled whine from Bokuto’s throat, "I’m not hitting on him, Koutarou."

There was this sort of annoying sigh of relief from Bokuto, to which Akaashi chose best to ignore. Possessiveness was one of his long list of exasperating traits that made Akaashi love him anyway.

It was around eleven when they arrived back to Akaashi’s apartment and Bokuto let his entire body flop onto the nearest mushy furniture that could support his weight- he almost slumped in the cat’s nest, but he was sound enough to notice it was too small, so he found the couch next.

Akaashi on the other hand went straight to his phone and started dialing. Bokuto heard him mention ‘Tsukishima’ before dozing off.

 

 

 

Kuroo was still being unnecessarily prickly, but to his good fortune (or not, it depends whose point of view it is), Bokuto had finally built up a perfect plan for him.

"Blind dating dot jp? You’re saying I’m _that_ desperate?"

"No listen, I was talking to a woman on that party about two days ago and she said she met the ideal husband. She’s divorced now, though."

"That’s a website for straights, anyway! I want to be able to choose on a range of more than a single gender, you know? And also I actually don’t need you to find me a date. Stop."

"Kuroo! You helped me hook up with Keiji in college! Let me return you the favor!"

"Return me the favor paying the rent and buy me the roses you killed last week."

Bokuto did not let a defeated exhalation yet— usually the sign that he was done with you— hence Kuroo held his locked glare on the shorter man and braced himself for whatever he had prepared next.

"Well, I’m not sure if you’re gonna like this one, but I got a plan B. B like me, like Bokuto, like Bro, like Buddy. B like This Won’t Fail. Wait it doesn’t have a B."

"Spill the beans."

Bokuto sat next to Kuroo (who himself was busy browsing instagram for cute #NoFilter pictures of small kitten) and grabbed his wrist from the excitement he had to hold back.

"So like, Keij- Akaashi told me he’s accompanying a beginner pianist in his career, and like, they’re composing some sick tunes. Like, boring as hell because it’s classical music, but sick because it’s Akaashi. And, bro, you won’t believe who’s the pianist boy."

"What’s this got to do with me?"

"His name is Kei! Tsukishima _Kei_. I know for a fact that people whose name start with _Kei_ are the realest deals. And like, he’s got those vintage glasses, man."

"Vintage glasses?"

"And super short blond hair- he’s tall, probably your size."

"Blond? Tall?"

"You should check out his build, I saw him playing that hot piano with his sleeves rolled when Akaashi brought him over. I bet he played volleyball in high school."

"Alright, I’m sold. Show me the Kei."

 

 

 

Akaashi immediately slammed the door on their noses when he opened to see both Bokuto and Kuroo standing in the hallway. He had that experienced instinct that whenever they were both standing in a close radius to each other— and for some reason even though Kuroo barely spoke with him was now here in his hallway— he knew he would rather not be upfront about it.

But he also wanted to avoid the neighbors’ wrath when the two started drumming threateningly at his door, Bokuto using his pleading high pitched voice and Kuroo reciting how good a friend he was back in college for getting him together with Bokuto. He opened the door and let the goofs in and hoard the cream white couch, a loud slamming in the distance indicated that Kenma— Akaashi’s current roommate— had detected the presence of the two walking threats and decided to take all precautions by locking his bedroom.

"What do you want. You know it bothers Kozume-san when you both come over at the same time. Mostly Kuroo."

"Tell him I said hi."

And there was another slam. Akaashi perked up. “This means he says hi too.”

"I’m getting better at communicating with him, bro…" He elbowed Bokuto with enthusiasm and he elbowed back and Akaashi parted them before it started a war and break furniture like last time.

"A… anyway, Keiji… We kinda… sorta… where’s Tsukki?"

"In the bathroom. We’re in the middle of composing our duet— and this is also why I want you out, he’s not to meet any of you two." He lets out an indignant groan, "And don’t call him Tsukki, that’s really impolite."

Kuroo leans in to whisper to Bokuto, “He’s a bit like your feudal lord, and you’re the helpless handmaiden.”

"Bullshit!"

Bokuto punched not-so-lighlty Kuroo’s side, and Kuroo promptly threw a punch at his face— that he dodged, and punched a porcelain flower pot instead. Good thing the pot didn’t bre— it broke.

And Tsukishima walked in right then.

And the four of them exchanged glances— mostly Akaashi’s glare deepening each passing millisecond and Kuroo who was suddenly glued to the image of Tsukishima Kei’s tall and slender frame standing next to Akaashi with a bewildered look.

"Pathetic."

"I’m so gay."

"Same."

"Get the hell out of this apartment."

 

 

 

“Thanks to you, I’m probably not allowed over for the next week or so.”

"You’re sparing Kenma from your irritating presence."

"Whatever, Kenma is always at Hinata’s when I come over. Now what, _now what!_ He won’t have an excuse to visit Hinata!"

"Seriously, what an idiot you are."

 

 

 

It was exactly a week later when Akaashi let Bokuto in his apartment, and Tsukishima was still composing the duet with him. Akaashi also allowed him to talk with Tsukishima all he wanted while he took a shower, because since that feudal lord comment, he felt a bit of guilt in the pit of his stomach and he certainly didn’t want to be seen like he steered Bokuto’s decisions (but sometimes you just needed to make sure he didn’t wreak havoc).

Tsukishima was determined not to make conversation with Bokuto, only replying to small talk questions with a record of shortest one-word-sometimes-one-sound answers. Bokuto noticed his lack of interest in carrying a fruitful discussion, and he took the challenge. He sat right across from the man who was still making those strings riff in the piano, and gave him the sternest look he could muster.

"Tsukishima-kun, are you single?"

The piano felt like it was going to implode from how hard he pressed the keys and how ugly the note that just came out of it sounded across the apartment. Bokuto was sure after this one Akaashi would kick him out again, but meanwhile, the look on Tsukishima’s face was so priceless he almost wanted to take a selfie with it.

"That’s a question you would only ask if you’re trying to cheat on your partner, or if you’re thinking of hooking me up with someone."

"Huh? I’m not that gross! I hate cheaters."

"So it’s the latter."

"…Mmmmmyes."

Bokuto could already feel Tsukishima’s exasperation in the over-the-top eyeroll he made as well as how he decided to ignore him and proceed with his keymash (at least it looked like keymashing to him). He was used to how Akaashi dealt with his antics with just about the same technique, except back in high school when he asked Akaashi if he was single, he had turned an interesting hue of red and stormed away. It took him four years to find out he was indeed single and willing to date him. Something he wonders if Akaashi doesn’t regret it sometimes.

"Okay but hear me out, he’s good."

"What, you mean your friend who punched Akaashi-san’s flower pot to pieces and also said ‘I’m so gay’ while making strong eye contact with me?"

"Yah. I mean— I break flower pots too. A lot. So it’s all good."

"Leave me the fuck alone."

Well this one was a feat. He certainly was harder to talk to than Akaashi at six in the morning, and Akaashi wasn’t a morning person. Bokuto let the conversation die for a bit, until he heard the water from the bathroom stop running and sounds of stuff shuffling in the distance and he thought he needed to take action fast or Akaashi would not allow him to even think of bringing up Kuroo. In the spur of the moment, he got down to his knees next to Tsukishima’s seat and pleaded for the kid to give his friend a chance, scribbling down Kuroo’s phone number that he knew from memory, Tsukishima gave him the best disgusted stare Bokuto had witnessed in decades and snatched the phone number off his hands just so he would shut up.

"Bokuto-san," a voice said just a few meters away from them, and Bokuto snapped his head in almost a hundred eigthy degrees angle to look at his boyfriend, standing in the doorway with his shirt not buttoned up all the way, his pants slightly loose without a belt and his sleeves rolled up, and (oh no) his hair still dripping slightly wet and tousled in all directions, some bangs sticking to his forehead.

Bokuto could eat his own foot right now if that would prevent him from having a cardiac arrest.

"Bokuto-san," he repeated, "Stand up, your pants are getting all dirty if you kneel like that."

"Um. Uhm. Ya… y… yeah." he didn’t intend to stammer so evidently, but he ignored that and got to his feet, not daring to look away from the world’s prettiest wonderboy (at least in Bokuto’s opinion) in his current state from fear this sight would vanish the moment he breaks eye contact. Akaashi just rose a brow while Bokuto made his way up to him a bit wobbly, then there was a strong arm around his waist, another running through his strands of hair, and soft chapped lips pressing gently at his own.

Tsukishima felt growing awkwardness, glancing over the couple and noticing for a moment the shakiness in Akaashi’s hands, and his face turning redder than something very red because I have no idea how to be original with this, then he whipped his head back to the paper he had ripped off Bokuto’s hands.

"What an awful writing." he muttered, but not loud enough to snap the concerned person’s attention.

 

 

 

“I’m very sorry for that. I will make sure he doesn’t do that around guests again.”

"I don’t really care," Tsukishima quipped, "As long as it keeps him from talking to me."

 

 

 

At three in the morning, Kuroo’s phone pinged, waking him up from an unexpected nap on the couch while watching a marathon of old J-dramas— well it was going into a long deep sleep from how long he had dropped, and also judging from the size of drool stain on the cushion (note: the cushion was a gift from Akaashi).

It couldn’t possibly be a text from Bokuto, he was home and fast asleep in his own bed, and it’s unlikely that he’d wake up at three in the morning just to text him— although it would actually be pretty characteristic of him, but he needed to check that number first.

"… What is this?" Kuroo’s voice sounded between very annoyed and also groggy from just waking up. The text contained nothing more than the grinning poop emoji and that’s it. He did not know that number, it wasn’t in his contacts, it wasn’t Bokuto nor Lev’s number (the first people he’d imagine would do this, and at three in the morning). He types his answer ‘fuck you who dis’ while mouthing it, he also sends a selfie of himself with his middle finger up, making sure the digital clock behind him is visible enough to show the time, and then slams his phone down on the couch, leaving to his room and sleep for good.

 

 

 

And now it’s Bokuto’s turn to wake up to his threateningly vibrating phone at around nine in the morning (an unlikely hour to pull pranks, but it was the time at which Akaashi was awake and practicing his solos), he jerked his entire body up and picked up the call.

"Bokuto-san, I know you’re somehow involved in this. How did you get Tsukishima-kun’s number?"

"Wha…? I didn’t?"

"Then how do you explain that he received a selfie of Kuroo-san flipping him off at three in the morning?!"

Bokuto pulled his phone away from his side, just registering the words he had been transferred into his brain, then he covered his microphone and kicked the wall right next to him that connected to Kuroo’s bedroom. “Kuroo, you did WHAT?!”

"I did WHAT?!" Kuroo’s muffled voice answered through the thin walls.

Bokuto brought his phone back to his ear as he brushed some of his bangs off his face and grunted, “L-listen, Keiji, I don’t know what happened— I did give Kuroo’s phone number to Tsukki yesterday but he didn’t give me his…”

"Oh my god." Akaashi ended the call, just as Kuroo emerged in Bokuto’s room— did his hairstyle get worse overnight? It did get worse.

"What’re you yelling at me for at nine in the morning, asshole? What did I do?"

Bokuto held his hand up as if that would shush him, then he got off the bed, brushing past him toward the bathroom. “Bro, you’re gonna love me for being such a good bro, ‘cause I’ll be your lawyer today. Get dressed and let’s go.”

"Go where. You don’t have a law degree."

"Damn it! Just tag along!"

 

 

 

Kuroo wasn’t sure why he needed a lawyer (a bad one at that), but Bokuto really pulled off the good game with the sleek blue suit and red tie, it really didn’t fit him as a matter of fact.

Akaashi opened the door and just as he was about to shut it, Bokuto preemptively shoved his foot into the crack of the door to keep him from slamming it, but he couldn’t feel his feet anymore. Kuroo wanted to laugh, but he saw Tsukishima standing tall behind Akaashi with a devious and indifferent look, and he swore to the christ he saw that tiny quirk upward at the corner of his lips.

They were let inside rather reluctantly, the two best friends hoarding the same couch as last time and Tsukishima taking a seat across from them on the nearest armchair.

"There’s tea or coffee in the kitchen," Akaashi then shot a glare at Kuroo "And I hope you brought apologies to blend with it." then he disappeared to the kitchen.

Kuroo felt his blood run chill for a fraction of seconds, unable to answer that unexplained burn he just received. Bokuto patted his back. “What’s wrong with him?” he asked his best friend with an incredulous and also slightly suspicious look, thinking that Bokuto could have done some shit and blamed it on Kuroo, but that would break their current agreement to always blame shit on Lev. Could this be betrayal?

And then he saw it. He saw Tsukishima break in a full-on smirk, showing the barest hint of teeth and furrowing his eyebrows, almost hiding them behind the thick frame of his glasses.

He sort of wanted this moment to last, with how Tsukishima was slightly angled to the left, his head angled even further away, and his right leg crossed over his left, his hands were resting on his lap. He looked so nonchalant and one could even say bratty if it wasn’t for the fact he was an adult and even more mature than both Kuroo and Bokuto altogether. Or so he could assume. Generally people always were. But it was this look of amusement that really caught his entire attention span toward him.

Kuroo winked at him.

And he wondered how you could go from predominantly smug to bewildered and uncomfortable in just about half a second.

"Cut it with the sexual tension, I’m dying." Oh god could Bokuto be such a turn off in these kind of situations.

"Koutarou, could you come?" Akaashi’s stern voice called out from the kitchen, and it almost looked like like there were springs in Bokuto’s steps because he was damn fast and joyous to go there.

 

“Alright— Keiji, this is what I’m here for, okay? Let me explain this. It’s not Kuroo’s fault he—”

"I get it," Akaashi placed a finger on Bokuto’s lips, and another hand trailed down to pull at his red tie to close the gap between them. "That suit is horrible on you."

 

 

 

Kuroo heard the kitchen’s door close and he took this as a sign that it was going to take long. He exchanged a quick glance to Tsukishima, just as another door at the end of the apartment closed— Kenma’s bedroom.

The silence was so strangling, Kuroo just wanted to fling himself out of the window or crash another flower vase just to make noise, but he was better than that.

A minute later, Tsukishima rose to his feet and walked towards the exit.

"Wait— where are you going?"

"Get some fresh air."

"Can I come?"

"No."

The younger man walked passed the doorway, Kuroo was rooted to the couch watching him leave and feeling slightly dreadful, before he heard the other add, “Do you see me stopping you?”

And it was Kuroo’s turn to have a spring on his steps.

 

 

 

They walked at least a whole five foot apart from each other, Kuroo not wanting to screw up with this opportunity and Tsukishima simply being Tsukishima.

But the silence in their walk was becoming comfortable. At this rate, Kuroo thought that just not talking at all would score him some points. They walked far enough to loose sight of the building where was Akaashi’s apartment and they stopped around halfway a bridge that connected two roads separated by the railway.

Tsukishima was just contemplating the somewhat boring urban landscape, leaning slightly against the railing with his arms crossed below his chest, his gaze definitely showed that he could care less about what he was seeing and he just expected Kuroo to say something.

"So… um… nice glasses."

"Thanks. I use them to see."

Kuroo smacked himself with both hands on his cheeks.

"Nice selfie, by the way."

"Wha…" He breathed, trying to make sense of the words, "What…?"

Tsukishima took his phone out and pressed a few buttons before turning around to show him the fuck-you-it’s-three-in-the-morning selfie he took last night, to which Kuroo slapped himself again and gaped stupidly.

"No. No way."

The silence settled back after the blond man let out a clearly amused chuckle, but like, the evil kind of chuckle. And it tugged at Kuroo’s heart in a strange way.

But what, it wasn’t like Kuroo was going to let himself be led by the nose so pathetically, he had standards and an image to maintain, and this wasn’t going to cover it.

"Thanks for your number then, Tsukishima-kun."

And Tsukishima realized his mistake, doing once again that odd mixture of embarrassment and anger, but he let it die fast and turned back to the view.

"I just wanted Akaashi-san to give you hell, but I guess he saw through it and now he’s distracting your friend so we could have a time alone to settle this. He’s too sharp. Too mature."

"And too kind." Kuroo immediately added as defense for himself and his sort of friend that was Akaashi. Oh, should he thank him later, but he already had made him a great favor by handing Bokuto to him without a fuss. What a great friend he was.

"So, may I have this chance?"

"No."

Kuroo almost felt the utter disappointment, but Tsukishima was once again fast enough to add, “I’m still not stopping you, idiot. I thought you looked more stubborn than that.”

"Trust me, I am."

 

 

 

A month later, Bokuto finished packing his last box and marked with big black letters ‘TROPHIES’ before patting the cardboard and stashing it with the rest of the boxes. Kuroo was looking at him leaning his shoulder on a doorway and arms crossed, looking a bit thoughtful.

"That was the last of it."

"Mmm."

Long stretches of silence were starting to become a habit ever since the date Bokuto had planned to move was approaching dangerously, and today was that last fateful day.

There was both giddiness and nostalgia, excitement and maybe just a bit of regret. The good part is that Akaashi lived only about three blocks away from Kuroo’s workplace, so they could meet often, but the bad side was that their movie nights and every other weekend activities were to be cancelled, they would not share breakfast and dinner so often anymore, and Bokuto was even planning to propose to Akaashi in the next month— which meant even more dedication to spend time with his future fiancé.

The shortest of the two silently walked up to the taller one and gave one of his bone-crushing hugs, incidentally making the other laugh a little and grin.

"I’ll invite you over many times. Many many times. Well, not as many if Akaashi starts getting angry, but we’ll see each other."

"I don’t doubt that, dude. Hey, stop pretending I’m about to have a crisis."

"Well, you look like it!"

"Revise your body language encyclopedia, idiot."

They parted a little while after with Bokuto patting his shoulders and giving him a proud grin, as if it was a father leaving his son behind to go to work for the day.

"How’s that Tsukishima guy doing, by the way?"

"Oh, you know. Still refusing to go on a first date with me, but at least I got him to tell me I looked good."

"Whoa! Bro! That’s amazing!" And he was being genuine.

"I know right? I’m pretty terrific."

"Don’t worry, you’ll get there! It took me four years to get with Keiji, so I’m sure there’s hope!!"

"Who do you think I am to loose hope?"

"Well, just saying… There is a time for everything, y’know? And that time is probably not soon, but it’s on the way."

An incoming call from Bokuto’s boyfriend indicated he was taking too long to proceed with the moving, he immediately answered the call with disgusting pet names, Kuroo rolled his eyes at that.

And like a Christmas miracle, his phone also ringed, but it was from a text message.

"Oh, Tsukki." he mumbled off-handedly.

In the next seconds it took him to read the message, he launched himself forward and took Bokuto in a tight _no homo or maybe a little homo but that's it_ embrace, who in turn protested because he was busy with his loving boyfriend and he had no time to deal with this.

 

 

 

_‘there’s a new restaurant my uncle opened. are you free friday at six?’_

**Author's Note:**

> I half assed the ending so badly but I just wanted to get this off my hands. As a side note, I forgot to mention it but kenma is moving away with Hinata or smth because he wouldn't stay for the world if Bokuto moves in. Thank you for reading!!
> 
> edit: thank u sand for pointing out the past/present tense problems I fixed them all now,, hopefully won't happen next time tfw
> 
> edit 2: JESU CHRIST MY FRIEND DREW FANART OF MY FAVORITE SCENE https://twitter.com/nartfarts/status/577664119358144512


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